


I Slithered Here from Eden Just to Sit Outside Your Door

by grandfatherclock



Series: Fire Hermit [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Community: widojest love, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 08:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20005315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandfatherclock/pseuds/grandfatherclock
Summary: “Hey, Traveler?” Her voice was all high and anxious and muffled by the pillow.He was there, and she could feel his ethereal fingers carding through her hair comfortingly. She tilted her head back to lean into his touch, spying his cloaked figure sitting beside her on her soft bed. His verdant cape billowed slightly from the wind from her open window, and she smiled at him weakly. His smirk, gentle but teasing, widened at her face.Ja, Jester?His clever silvertongue which has convinced her to do so much shit in the past—just like she’s convincedhimto do so much—still twisted intofondnesswhen he said her name.Jesterflushedat his use of Zemnian. He knew, hehadto know about the pale blue eyes that she obsesses over most nights before she sleeps, the way that worn white shirt drapes on his thin form, the way it’s just slightly unbuttoned and she can see his sternum.Gods, the Traveler could be such anassholesometimes. It still… warms her heart, though, that someone knows her well enough to bring forth all her worries in two simple words.JaandJester. “How do I know if a personlikesme?”





	I Slithered Here from Eden Just to Sit Outside Your Door

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [_From Eden_](https://open.spotify.com/track/5aRZk9oWIYUB5alrTs8TTV?si=knbYQwt9SiGRc-JpANHxGw) by Hozier.

Caleb smiles at how Jester wavers, her head tilted as she bunches up the cloth of her blue dress in her hands and bites her lower lip. “You’re _nervous_ ,” he says, shaking his head a little in bemusement. Jester pouts at him, and his lips quirk up further at her scrunched up nose. “Oh, Jester,” he sighs, the erratic flickering of the fire around him making his nervousness clear despite how he purposefully pauses before he speaks, making his lilting words appear sure, purposeful. “She’ll _adore_ you, I promise. Veth is brave, and curious, and so, so _smart_.” Jester leans back against the wall of his cave and watches Caleb fondly as he talks about his dear friend. “She likes pretty things like you do, you know, flowers and rings and things like that.”

Jester blinks, and then looks to the vase holding several sunflowers near the entrance of the cave. They’re shifting out to the sun— _searching for light_ , Jester thinks, _kinda like Cayleb searches for people, searches for weird ladies who don’t recoil at the sight of him_ —and Caleb wrings his hands self-consciously as he watches her neck crane to the side. “Are you _sure_?” Jester sighs, pulling her legs up close to her chest. She’s… never _had_ a friend besides the Traveler since she was a child, and Caleb is the first _other_ friend. Her gut squirms as she thinks of the short woman with the crossbow Caleb described with stars in his eyes, so admiring and longing and respecting—and _yeah_ , she’s insecure. Her arms wrap around her legs, and Caleb watches her with his studying gaze as she sighs again to herself. “She’s so _cool_ though,” Jester pouts.

“So are _you_ , Lavorre,” Caleb says, almost immediately. Jester stares at him, eyebrows raised at how _sure_ his voice is in a man that’s so full of doubt, and Caleb shifts his jaw, seeming uncomfortable in that _way_ he gets when their gazes meet for too long. It isn’t _unpleasant_ though, and Jester… has suspicions about how his face flushes like _that_ , how his eyes flit away when he looks at her bare freckled shoulders that _way_. His voice gets lower sometimes when they talk, words dry and clever and _teasing_ , and there’s a secret language there, different from her romance novels but still… real, still _there_. She remembers laying on her bed with her pillow against her face, her legs criss-crossing with nervous energy as she thought about how his face glowed this gentle hue from the firelight.

“Hey, Traveler?” Her voice was all high and anxious and muffled by the pillow.

He was there, and she could feel his ethereal fingers carding through her hair comfortingly. She tilted her head back to lean into his touch, spying his cloaked figure sitting beside her on her soft bed. His verdant cape billowed slightly from the wind from her open window, and she smiled at him weakly. His smirk, gentle but teasing, widened at her face. _Ja, Jester?_ His clever silvertongue which has convinced her to do so much shit in the past—just like she’s convinced _him_ to do so much—still twisted into _fondness_ when he said her name.

Jester _flushed_ at his use of Zemnian. He knew, he _had_ to know about the pale blue eyes that she obsesses over most nights before she sleeps, the way that worn white shirt drapes on his thin form, the way it’s just slightly unbuttoned and she can see his sternum. _Gods_ , the Traveler could be such an _asshole_ sometimes. It still… warms her heart, though, that someone knows her well enough to bring forth all her worries in two simple words. _Ja_ and _Jester_. “How do I know if a person _likes_ me?” She stared at him with her jaw shifting, and he reached out, pulling a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s _really important_ , you know?” She flushed, and looked down.

_I know_ , the Traveler assured her. _I know how important crushes like that are_. Jester’s lips would’ve twisted into a frown, but she knew the Traveler enough now to know he was being completely genuine. _Does he light up when he sees you?_

“Well, _yeahhh_ ,” Jester sighed. “But he’s _always_ lit up, you know? Like a candlestick.” _The prettiest candlestick she’s ever seen_ , she thought privately, but from how the Traveler let out this soft half-laugh, she thought he might’ve read her thoughts.

_Watch his fire, my dear._ The Traveler’s eyes were covered, but Jester had this deep, intrinsic feeling that he’s _winking_ at her. _Watch how he dances for you._

So Jester _watches_. She watches how the flames become more erratic when he realizes she’s walking into the cave, this slight _jump_ from the calm fire thin along his skin to downright _smouldering_ flames that are more intense, more _dark_ , when his gaze fixates on her. She notices how the colours darken too, becoming harsh and red the longer she stays with him—more like the center of the bonfire than the edges of it. She watches how he writes slowly and carefully, more slow and careful than that time she snuck up behind him to see what he was writing behind his back, maintaining that careful distance. He wasn’t _pleased_ , beginning to lecture her about how _dangerous_ that was, only stopping with his eyes widening when he realized gave him just the _right_ amount of space—she came as close as possible while respecting the radius of where his fire emitted from him. _I pay attention to youuuu, Cayleb_ , she said then, and Caleb blinked, shaking his head slightly in astonishment.

So _yeah_ , there _is_ a dance to the flames when he talks to her, and she doesn’t quite know how to approach this, how to _admit_ this. It’s not like they can fucking _touch_ , but _still_ —when he’s helping her with her calculus course she took at the University of Nicodranas, watching her carefully scribe equations on her white paper, never getting annoyed when she messes something up or forgets to write a line, her heart _flutters._ When she left him a painting of the sunset along the beach and he smiled wide even as he stuttered that this is _too much, Lavorre, you don’t need to do this for me_ , and his skin flushed pink, she felt all warm inside, her own cheeks darkening despite herself. 

Jester just doesn’t know what to _do_ about it. It’s not like he makes having a crush on him _easy_ , with how flighty and evasive he can be. “Glad you think I’m _cool_ , Cayleb,” she says slowly. She gives him a weak smile, unable to resist the set-up for the joke. “I think you’re really _hot_ , you know?”

Caleb blinks, and then smirks, shaking his head. “You’re very funny,” he says, his voice dry. Jester remembers being annoyed by that habit of his before she realized his tone both just how he tended to _speak_ — _not all people are expressive in the same way, my sapphire_ , her mother once told her when Jester asked why Blude hardly smiled—and he was also teasing her _back,_ not considering her stupid and childish. “Veth can’t resist a good joke, either, you’ll be the best of friends.”

_Veth. Good at jokes._ Jester looks down and shifts her jaw. “You aren’t… _in love_ with her or something, right?” Caleb tilts his head at her tone, and Jester widens her smile, hating how insincere it feels on her face. “I mean, it’s _really_ cool if you are, I just was _wondering_ , and _nevermind, you don’t have to answer, I just_ —”

“Jester,” Caleb says, raising a hand as if wants to reach out to her. Jester watches the flames cascade along his bandaged arms miserably, thinks about how much she’d like to intertwine her own brown fingers with his burnt, calloused ones. There’s something elegant about them, and Jester thinks he would look very nice playing piano, fingers all arched in that way that they tend to with instruments. He walks close to her, as close as he’s able, two feet away, and leans down in front of her, he retracts his arm back to run a hand through his hair. Jester watches his fingers card through those red strands enviously. “Veth has a husband.”

“… Oh,” Jester says slowly, her voice bright and dizzy.

Caleb’s eyes search her face, and he exhales through his teeth. “And I would never… even if Yeza wasn’t in the picture, I would never subject her to loving me.” Jester furrows her eyebrows, and Caleb rushes to continue, seeing the objection on her lips, “People like Veth—curious, wild women who love flowers”— _oh_ , Jester thinks numbly, as Caleb looks to her knowingly for just a moment, _oh_ —“deserve people who can _give_ them flowers, Lavorre.” He looks to the pot of sunflowers Jester was staring at earlier, and shakes his head to himself. “And I don’t… I don’t…” He looks like he’s at an utter loss of what to say, his face _twisting_. “And I _can’t_.” He looks like he’s begging her to understand what he’s trying to say without forcing him to rip the words out from his throat.

Jester doesn’t know what the _fuck_ to do with that. All she knows is that he’s _wrong_ , completely. “… It wasn’t a joke, you know,” she mumbles. _Merde_ , is she really doing this? Her thoughts _race_ , and she clenches her jaw, looking to Caleb determinedly. He’s so _wrong_ , and even if this makes everything off and weird, she’s going to let him know. “It wasn’t a _joke_ , Cayleb.” He stares at her, uncomprehending, and Jester sighs, widening her eyes slightly for emphasis. “You really are _hot_.”

Caleb blinks, and then shakes his head again, seeming… frustrated, but not by her. He winces at her gaze on him. “ _Jester_ —” he begins. Caleb… Caleb sounds like he knows what she’s going to say next, and he looks deathly afraid of it. “Lavorre, you don’t have to—”

“We don’t… have to talk about it,” Jester says quietly, looking away. “I just thought you should know.” Her voice sounds so painfully awkward. “Someone should tell you. You’re beautiful, Cayleb.” _And I see how you blush, I see how your fire comes alive for me. I see how you think I’m beautiful, too_. She’s like to _hear_ it though. Maybe not _now_ —damn lie, she craves those words in his pretty lips, his face all open and vulnerable for her—but he isn’t ready for that, she can tell in how he pulls back, still on his knees in front of her seated form.

“… I’m really not,” Caleb sighs, “but… someone should tell _you_.” Jester stares, caught in between wanting to fight him on his first assertion and that _goddamn_ smile crawling onto her lips as she can _picture_ him saying those _words_ — “You’re beautiful, Jester. Very… very hot, too.” He blushes at that.

_Ahh_ , Jester thinks, her mind kind of short-circuiting as her eyes widen, as her lips pull out and make her smile impossibly wide. Oh shit, _oh fuck_. Fuck the Traveler, he said it, he said those _words_ —she was so _convinced_ he was just gonna… let her simmer in this, let her play at romance in her head and dance with an even prettier version of him while he pretended those glances didn’t fucking mean anything. “Y-you do?” she stutters, a hand reaching out to self-consciously pull a loose strand of curly hair behind her ear. _Say it again_ , she fucking begs him in her head.

“You’re beautiful,” Caleb repeats, and he’s blushing deeper, deeper, _deeper_. Goddamn, the _things_ she could do if her lips could trail down that soft, pale _skin…._ He hasn’t been kissed in so long, and Jester thinks that’s so cruel, that’s so fucking unfair. “I always thought so. Since that first time I saw you, Jester.”

“So are _you_ ,” Jester says, and when Caleb makes a face, she narrows her eyes. “ _Cayleb_ , you’re _really_ handsome and _really_ smart and _you deserve to know, alright?_ ” She crosses her arms, lowering her legs until they’re crossing each other.

“ _I’m always saying so_ ,” a reedy voice interrupts, and Jester and Caleb both straighten up, to look at the short woman standing in the doorway. _Veth_ , Jester thinks wildly, even before Caleb’s surprised face twists pleasantly with his lips curving into a fond smile. She’s _beautiful,_ with two braids framing her lovely round face and her dark brown eyes wide and searching. She wears a pretty green dress with buttons embroidered into them, sturdy brown boots on her feet, holding a truly _wicked_ looking crossbow in her hands that almost seems too _big_ for her stout form. Jester widens her eyes as the woman raises a thick eyebrow, a smile on her own lips. “Hey, Caleb!”

“Veth,” Caleb says, his voice becoming all warm as he gets up, walking to her as close as he’s able. Veth looks up at him, her pretty face widening into a huge smile with all her teeth, and Jester studies his flames as he strides forward. They _do_ get darker, the same intensity as they do when he talks to Jester, but the _erraticness_ isn’t there—he loves her, cares for her just as strongly, probably even _stronger_ , but also… differently. _He likes me_ , she thinks, her thoughts having this undercurrent of giddiness. _Fuck, he really likes me._ Jester _blinks_ when Caleb says her name and gestures her forward, and Veth looks at her curiously. “This is my friend,” he says to her, his face all proud.

“Hiii,” Jester beams, clasping her hands together. Veth watches her movements with careful, reproachful eyes, and Jester looks through her bag slung on one shoulder, going through the mess of trinkets and pencils and brushes. Veth’s eyes watch her pretty bracelet with _pointed_ interest, and Jester remembers Caleb mentioning Veth having a thing about pretty thievery. _Oh_ , _that’s gonna be fun_ , she thinks, finally finding the bag she was looking for and reaches into it, offering Veth a semi-smushed donut. “So nice to finally _meet_ you!”

Veth eyes her donut warily and reaches for it, taking a bite before widening her eyes with horror, looking to Caleb who watches her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, shit, Cayleb, are you _sure_ she’s trustworthy and hasn’t just managed to poison me?” Her voice is accusatory.

“You’re the alchemist,” Caleb says, smiling down at the two of them. “You could probably keep a sample and test it out, though the poison would probably work through—”

“Fuck it,” Veth says, eating the rest of it, and Caleb barks out a laugh. Veth smirks at her, her dark eyes all shiny and knowing. “I’ve heard things about you _too_ , you’re really pretty. Caleb wasn’t _kidding._ ”

Oh. _Oh_. Jester gives Caleb a mischievous smile and he avoids her gaze. “Well,” he says, clasping his own hands together and seeming very eager to change the subject, “tell me about Luke, how did he do on his test? Oh, and the drug you and Yeza were developing. Have you received word on whether you two have the go-ahead to begin the second stage of experimentation?”

Veth begins to talk about Luke, her dark eyes wide and adoring, and Jester sits back down, Veth beside her. Jester laughs when she talks about an explosion that made their lab unworkable for about a week, coos when she shows Jester a picture of her family. Veth even allows her to hold the crossbow, helps her point to an empty spot in the wall Caleb said they were free to aim at, and braces Jester when the force from shooting pushes her back. They talk about smut, even exchanging books in their respective bags, and Veth listens to Jester’s stories about the Traveler eagerly, the two of them eating Jester’s donuts as they talked.

Caleb is silent, but when Jester looks to him from the corner of her eye, he’s… _beaming_ in that understated way of his. It makes her smile, and she rests her hand on the ground beside her and Caleb. He looks to it for a moment, and for a moment she thinks he won’t reciprocate… and then he _does_ , resting his own fiery hand two feet away. Their gazes meet, and she expects him to flit his eyes away, flit his eyes to the ethereal fire in the middle of his cave or to Veth, but he _doesn’t_ , he _smirks_ at her, and Jester’s own smile widens.

She tightens her hand on the dirt and clumps it into her grip. _I watched_ , she thinks to the Traveler. Caleb’s fire makes pretty patterns against his skin. _You were right, he dances for me._ She hears what might’ve been an ethereal laugh, and smiles, continuing to listen to Veth’s story.

**Author's Note:**

> Babe  
> There's something tragic about you  
> Something so magic about you  
> Don't you agree?
> 
> —Hozier, [_From Eden_](https://open.spotify.com/track/5aRZk9oWIYUB5alrTs8TTV?si=knbYQwt9SiGRc-JpANHxGw)


End file.
